


pretty please (i need your hands on me)

by orphan_account



Category: Thai Actor RPF, เพราะรักใช่ป่าว | Why R U?: The Series (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Study Date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s always like that, their kisses start soft and slow until something stirs inside him, a fire so powerful he can barely discern and then it’s hard to focus on anything that isn’t Tutor.Or, the one where Fighter can't focus and Tutor doesn't really know how to resist him.
Relationships: Fighter/Tutor (Why R U?: The Series)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 208





	pretty please (i need your hands on me)

**Author's Note:**

> This might turn into a series so I can cope with WHYRU ending and to fill the fightertutor hole in my heart. I didn't proofread so excuse any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

Exam season is the bane of Fighter’s existence. He has never been good with exams and tests and studies, though, since he started dating Tutor that changed a little. Either way, finals were coming up and while Fighter loathed studying, that seemed to be all he'd be doing all week. 

"I'm tired," He whines, poking Tutor's thigh with his toe. "Can we take a break?"

Tutor hums but doesn't offer any more than that. Fighter knows his answer would probably be the same as an hour ago. _No, we cannot take a break, Fighter._

"But I'm also hungry," He tries. "How can I focus on studying with an empty stomach?"

Finally, Tutor looks away from his notes. "Are you really hungry or are you just looking for an excuse to stop studying?"

"I'm really hungry," Fighter says. "I swear."

"You also swore you'd make an effort to study with me. That's why I agreed for you to come."

"Am I not studying? Did I not just spend an hour reading about," Fighter looks down to his book. "Particle swarm optimization?" He finishes. 

Tutor sighs, "Fine. We can order something, but after we are done no more breaks, okay? Finals are coming up and I need to be prepared. _You_ need to be prepared."

Fighter smiles. "Sure, teacher." He gets up to find his phone while Tutor tidies up around the living room, leaving the centre table – previously full of books and notes – free for when the food arrives. Fighter orders Tutor's favourite food and finds his way back to the couch, snuggling up against Tutor's warm frame. "Now we wait." He says. 

Tutor hums. "Hey, are you having trouble with the subject?"

"No, it's fine." Fighter replies, letting his cold nose touch the base of Tutor's neck. "I think I'm doing good." He drags his nose back up to behind Tutor's ear, leaving a small kiss there. 

"That's nice," Tutor answers, he brings one of his hands to hold onto Fighter's chin. "Stop that."

"Why?" He asks, leaving a long kiss on Tutor's warm skin. Tutor always smells so good, lovely and clean – almost delicate, but heady and strong. Fighter throws one leg on top of Tutor, effectively securing him under his weight. Tutor's hand, the one that isn't holding Fighter's face, falls to Fighter's strong thigh, kneading the flesh forcefully. 

"You promised me you wouldn't do that," Tutor whines. "No teasing during study dates, remember? That's our rule."

"We are not studying right now, are we? We took a break to eat."

"To eat food, Fighter." 

Fighter chuckles. "I wasn't even thinking about sex. I was just cuddling you. Now you brought it up, how am I supposed to not want it?"

"Control yourself," Tutor shots back.

"With you close like this?" Fighter says, voice dropping so that it's almost a whisper. "Can't do that."

Tutor shrivers, but doesn't give in. Even when Fighter resumes his kissing, leaving small pecks all over Tutor's neck and his collarbones. He squeezes Fighter's thigh again, trying to keep focused.

"Fighter."

"Just a kiss, then. Come on, look at me."

"No, you always want more. You always want too much." Tutor whines. "If I give in now, we are not even going to hear the door when the food arrives."

"Please?" Fighter tries, knowing Tutor barely resists when he begs. He uses this weapon with responsibility, trying not to overdo it, and that's why it keeps working. "One kiss and then we wait for the food in silence."

Tutor sighs. "Fine. One kiss."

"Just one." He agrees. 

Like almost always, their kisses start slow. Mostly because Fighter likes to take his time so he can stare at Tutor’s flawless skin – tinted pink with desire – and his lips – full and glistening with spit as he licks them – likes to take his time while leaning close to Tutor’s face so he can watch as Tutor’s eyes flutter, so he can see as Tutor’s mouth fall open – waiting, wanting. 

At the first touch of their lips, Fighter whines in comfort. When finals are around the corner, Tutor gets into perfect-student-mode, concentrating on his work and his studies like a madman and that’s _fine_ , Fighter doesn’t _care_ , he likes that Tutor is hardworking and smart the way he is, but often exam season just means less time spent kissing.

Dates are out of the question unless they are study dates and kisses aren’t allowed on those. Fighter lives a hard life during exam season. But right now, for some extraordinary reason, Tutor is engaging in the kissing and Fighter is relieved. 

Relieved because nothing else makes him feel as good as having Tutor so close and warm against him. His body reacts immediately, arms coming to hold strongly at Tutor’s waist, pulling him closer – but the position isn’t ideal, so Fighter pulls away leaving a chuckle out as Tutor follows with his eyes still closed, as he always does. _Who wants too much?_ Fighter almost teases, but he knows that would only earn him a pout and, right now, he’d rather have Tutor’s lips against his.

He darts on the couch, hands tugging Tutor with him until his back is against the arm couch. Tutor gets the idea pretty fast, settling on his lap like he’s made to be there, always. Which Fighter firmly believes to be the case, Tutor was made to be here – on his arms – and Fighter was made to hold him.

Tutor laughs when he leans in again, “Calm down,” He states. “I’m not food, did you know?”

Fighter shakes his head. “Kiss.” 

Tutor laughs again, but holds Fighter’s face delicately, guiding their lips back together and Fighter groans, wanting to swallow Tutor whole. It’s always like that, their kisses start soft and slow until something stirs inside him, a fire so powerful he can barely discern and then it’s hard to focus on anything that isn’t Tutor.

Fighter’s tongue licks Tutor’s mouth, savouring his taste and the way Tutor’s breath hitches. He lets his hands run loosely on Tutor’s frame, from his shoulders to his waist and then his lower back, the curve of his ass – Fighter takes his time on that one. Then, he leads his hands to Tutor’s hips and holds him down against his thighs. Tutor draws back, lips bruised and irresistible. 

“Fighter,” He sounds _broken_ as if being away from him even if just solely inches is a task too hard. “You are so–”

“I know, but you like it, don’t you?”

Tutor shakes his head, but he leans in again, clearly hungry for more of what Fighter is willing to give. “I love you,” He whispers, lips brushing against Fighter’s lightly. “I really do.”

That will be his ruin. Fighter knows that. Tutor’s voice, broken and needy, saying those words– it’s all Fighter cherishes the most in the world: having Tutor with him, for as long as a god is willing to be with a simple, unworthy man. Loving Tutor has to be the best part of Fighter because it made him grow into someone he doesn’t resent. It made him brighter and stronger and– 

“I love you more,” Fighter replies. “Now, come here.”

Tutor comes, warm and lovely and smelling like delicate flowers. He comes with a little smile hiding at the corner of his lips and with a hungry, dark look in his eyes. For a god, Tutor can be extremely unholy and Fighter drinks it up– his unholiness, his dirtiness. The way he licks his lips because he knows Fighter will want to do the same to him, the way he lets his eyelashes flutter just because he knows Fighter has a weak, weak spot for him. The way he presses his dick down Fighter’s on hardness and still has the most angelical touch. 

Fighter has long given up the idea of being in charge, because there's no way he remains in control when Tutor is the one with the power to make Fighter fall at his feet like a lost puppy. 

"You are a liar," Tutor whispers, breathy and hot against the skin of Fighter's neck. "You said one kiss."

"You're the one kissing me right now," Fighter teases and Tutor bites his bottom lip, teeth pressing down forcefully just an inch away from breaking skin – which is usually what Tutor does when they kiss and he gets hot and bothered, bites Fighter until both of them taste blood, until Fighter whimpers against his mouth, until his lips sting.

“Tor,” He moans, trying to get Tutor to grind on him again because he is _so_ hard it hurts. 

But then again, Tutor only does what he wants and sex is no different. “Behave,” He says, pulling on Fighter’s hair until Fighter bares his neck at him. “Don’t wanna punish you today.”

“I– don’t wanna be punished either.”

“Behave, then. Let me kiss you.”

“You don’t look like you want just to kiss.”

Tutor shuts him up with his mouth, tongue curling behind his teeth. He gently pulls Fighter in even closer, warmth settling in his chest as Fighter automatically wraps his arms around his middle, the steady thump of Fighter’s heartbeat against his, mouths sloted together in a way Tutor _knows_ he wouldn’t fit with anyone else. He broke the kiss for a minute so he could watch properly as Fighter’s lost control of his facial expressions, Tutor slowly slides one hand down the body beneath him, corners of his mouth quivering in a smile as Fighter moans heavily breathing. He pops the button on Fighter’s pants and tuggs them until Fighter’s dick is springs free. 

“God,” Tutor says, breathless. “I will never get tired of this.”

Fighter whimpers again as his body trembles in anticipation. Tutor wraps his hand, dry and warm, around Fighter's cock, squeezing lightly. "Want me to get you off, baby?"

He shakes his head. “Want to fuck you.”

Tutor clicks his tongue. “Not now,” He says, bringing his hand to his mouth, he licks his palm, both of them are aware this is more of a scene than anything else and what can help the slide is Fighter’s pre come, but Fighter has always loved the way Tutor gets dirty. “This is just a study break.”

Fighter whines. “Babe,”

“No. If you ask again, I’ll stop everything.” Tutor says. 

This, effectively, shuts him up. Well, this and the way Tutor wraps both hands around him again and as they become wetter, the slide becomes easier, Fighter's moans become louder. Tutor chuckles, he leans in and kisses his collarbones, grunting appreciatively at the taste of his cologne. 

“You are so sensitive,” Tutor hums. “I love you so much.”

Fighter bucks his hips up quickly and desperately and holds Tutor's face, wanting to kiss him languidly because that's his favourite thing to do – even if his lips bruise after – he won't ever give up the chance of kissing Tutor's rosy and plump lips and, as they kissed, Tutor's hand speed up, thumb teasing the slit of his cock. “Fuck, baby.” 

“Good?”

“Yeah,” He cries out, fucking Tutor’s hands. “So good.”

Tutor's hands were so good to him, so soft and warm and he knew _just_ how to work on him. Fighter grew closer and closer to completion as Tutor kept kissing his lips, biting on it again and breathing out against his face.

“Baby,” He says. “I’m so close, I’m so–”

The buzz that echoes through the apartment is well known, Fighter usually even likes it, it means their food arrived. Right now, Fighter hates it.

"No," He cries out, knowing full well Tutor is going to stop.

"Our food is here," He says, letting go of Fighter's cock and he instantly misses the touch. He feels like crying. "Wait."

Tutor leaves his lap, then, leaving Fighter cold and sad on the couch, and runs to the kitchen. The delivery boy buzzes again and Tutor shouts a quick "just a minute!" from the kitchen, from where Fighter can hear the tap water running. When Tutor comes to the living room again, he sends Fighter a scandalized look. "Put that away."

"What?" Fighter says. 

"Your dick, you asshole."

Fighter grunts, but obeys. He doesn’t care to help Tutor with the food, choosing to behave as a spoiled brat, instead. He was so close. His dick is hurting and his legs are still shaking. 

Tutor looks at him, putting the food on the centre table. 

"Are you mad?"

Fighter hums.

"Because I didn't make you cum when I specifically told you we didn't have the time to do so?"

He hums again, looking away.

"Fighter."

"Yes?"

“Let’s eat.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” He replies, crossing his arms.

“Fine, don’t eat then, if that’s what you want. But remember we have a long study date ahead of us and if you don’t get it all done, I won’t let you fuck me tonight.”

Fighter sighs. “When did you get so manipulative?”

Tutor laughs. Fighter loves his laugh, the way his cheeks get rosy and full and all he wants to do is kiss them. He sighs again, sliding from the couch to the floor. His cock is still half hard, and he reckons it’s going to stay like that the whole evening, but it’s fine for he knows Tutor is going to take care of him tonight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading 🦊


End file.
